


souls

by mothwrites



Series: COLA crossovers [1]
Category: The Shapeshifter & Unleashed - Ali Sparkes
Genre: Multi, daemon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwrites/pseuds/mothwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dax never had a daemon.</p><p>It wasn’t impossible. He knew of others- scattered across the world, that came up in sensational news stories and playground gossip. But no-one in Bark End could relate, or even attempt to understand."</p><p>A daemon au, (crossover of sorts with the His Dark Materials series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dax

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a lot of feelings about COLA kids and daemons. These chapters will be unconnected, of varying lengths, and in non-chronological order; I'm just having fun with the characters for now, and I'll update as and when I get ideas.  
> For a list of who has what daemons, go here! (Though this is subject to change.)  
> http://galaxiesofappletrees.tumblr.com/post/72595974056/if-all-the-colas-were-shapeshifters

Dax never had a daemon.

It wasn’t impossible. He knew of others- scattered across the world, that came up in sensational news stories and playground gossip. But no-one in Bark End could relate, or even attempt to understand.

It was partly how he ended up with Clive for a best friend. Clive, with his bear daemon, a ball of fluff that had been a mouse for most of their lives. Clive, who saw his lack of a soul as fascinating, rather than hideous.

“You  _have_ a soul,” Clive corrected him one day, brandishing a carrot stick at him over lunch in their secluded area of the playground. “No-one can dispute that. You have a conscience, you empathise with people, you can find things amusing and sad. The question is, why isn’t your soul  _corporeal?_ Or,” he mused, scratching Minerva’s ears, “maybe it is, and we just can’t see it. Like it’s some kind of micro-bacteria. Or a particularly miniscule insect.”

“I don’t have one, Clive. That’s the whole point. I’d be able to hear it even if I couldn’t see it-  _her,”_ he corrected himself quickly, as Minerva frowned at him with her dark, beady eyes. ”Sorry. But I’m right.”

“Daemon science is a very un-researched topic. We don’t have all the answers. Maybe one day, we could-“

“I don’t  _need_ answers. I’m used to it, okay?”

“Fine. Did you hear about the roadside death up in Cornwall? The kid, who was a bit older than us?”

“Uh. I think so.” It had been on the news this morning.

“He didn’t have a daemon either.”

Dax stopped eating. “Is that supposed to be  _comforting_?”

“No, I just thought it was interesting. Cornwall isn’t that far away.”

“Whatever.”

Clive had the decency to look a little sheepish, and continued eating in silence, until he meekly apologised. Dax did his best to smile.

"Don’t worry. It doesn’t bother me, okay? I mean, yeah, it’s sad someone died, but I didn’t  _know_ him or anything.”

-

It did bother him. That night he dreamt of the boy, though he didn’t even know his name. The strange thing was, Dax reflected the next morning, in his dream the boy  _did_  have a demon. A large, grey wolf.

Even stranger was the fox, trotting beside him as he knelt down next to the still-warm body.

 


	2. spook and darren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later, in the car home, his mother tells him what a wonderful thing has just happened. Sorcha’s settled early, and of course it’s unexpected, but it’s just fine. They can have a special tea to celebrate, and she’s sure his father will be thrilled.  
> Spencer barely hears any of this.

Sorcha first changes into a hedgehog when they’re looking at picture books in school, happily nestled on one of the brightly coloured bean bags, and Spencer’s overhears a girl say she likes hedgehogs over all over animals. Sorcha, lazily wound around Spencer’s arm, slithers off while he’s not paying attention. The girl’s daemon- he can remember neither of their names, now- bounds over, white and fluffy, and jumps in excitement as Sorcha changes and rolls around for their amusement. Spencer looks up and laughs, _don’t be such a show off_ , and everything’s fine until the white kitten jumps a little too forcefully on her and rebounds with a yelp.

The girl screams, and snatches her daemon up, fussily inspecting for blood while it mewls and hisses, batting at Sorcha from a few feet away with its tiny white paws. Everything is a blur of loud, curious children, and Sorcha curls up even more, trembling violently until Spencer carefully picks her up and nestles her in the crook of his arm.

\- _What did you do?_

- _I didn’t do anything!_

\- _Is he bleeding? Are we gonna be in trouble? Ow,_ Spencer winces, as he’s jabbed by prickles. _Sorcha, change into something else_.

\- _I... I don’t think I can._

Later, in the car home, his mother tells him what a wonderful thing has just happened. Sorcha’s settled early, and of course it’s unexpected, but it’s just fine. They can have a special tea to celebrate, and she’s sure his father will be _thrilled._

Spencer barely hears any of this. Sorcha sits carefully next to him on the car seat, and though he tries to ignore it, he can feel the slight jabs of her sharp spines through his school trousers.

\- _Am I hurting you?_

\- .. _No._

\- _You’re lying._

- _I know. It’ll be okay._

\- _Are we ever gonna be able to hug again?_

The question catches him off guard. He looks wildly from Sorcha, to his mother, back to Sorcha. Her spines quiver. He bursts into tears.

 

*

 

Spook doesn’t _want_ a new roommate. He says this, loudly, and often, to Owen and whoever else was there that day; he’s had enough. Everyone who’s ever slept in his room has left to live with someone else, after too many arguments, or their daemons stepped on Sorcha and hurt their _precious paws._ There’s just no point in going through it all again, he’s fine on his own.

They don’t listen. Why would they? So the next day, Darren Tyler is shown into his room.

He’s small, very small, or maybe it’s just the multicoloured, obviously homemade sweater he’s practically swimming in that makes him appear so. Spook takes a good look at him; baggy jeans, rumpled hair, light brown skin. His daemon takes the form of a brightly coloured bird, flashing scarlett and bright orange as it flits around the room, inspecting everything.

Darren simply waves, and laughs.

“Zanthie, don’t be rude. Say hi! This is Zanthie. I’m Darren.” Soft, grey eyes meet Spook’s, and he’s about to say something back when Zanthie swoops down, shifts clumsily into a tabbycat and nudges Sorcha with her little pink nose. Spook starts, and lunges forward just as Zanthie reels back, batting at her nose with a paw.

There’s a split second where neither boy knows how to react, but Zanthie solves everything by carefully lowering her head down to lick Sorcha’s ear. Slowly, gently, the hedgehog daemon uncurls, and before Spook can even register what’s happening, cat and hedgehog are playing happily together and Darren’s turned around to unpack his suitcase.

\- _I like them_ , Sorcha declares happily.

They are fast friends. Darren is warm, and energetic, uncomplicated, while Zanthie, once satisfied with everything she’s explored, is a surprisingly calming influence on both of them. By the end of their first week, they know everything about each-other. By third year, Zanthie has settled into a lean black cat, with fur so soft it shines, and large yellow eyes that almost match the jasper on Darren’s wrist. Sorcha has her own little pouch, knitted by Darren’s grandmother, with a fleecy lining which lets her curl up to the other half of her soul at night without hurting him.

By sixth year, Spook can stir in the night, drowsy and warm, and run his fingers through Zanthie’s fur. Sorcha nestles in the space between them, curled up near Darren’s collarbone, and Spook wonders, half-silly, still-half asleep, whether they are four souls, two, or one.

 


End file.
